


Armor

by Naemi



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Affairs, Guilty Conscience, Infidelity, M/M, Oral Sex, Religious Guilt, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 07:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17484140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naemi/pseuds/Naemi
Summary: It never fails to make his heart hammer against his ribs, in part simple physical response, in part due to his guilty conscience.





	Armor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [claudia603](https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudia603/gifts).



The light is dim, but when Elliot looks down at George, he can still make out the contours of his face. He notices the sparkle in George's eyes every time George slides his mouth up and the dark flutter of lashes when he sucks back down.

This is wrong, terribly wrong. It's a one-way street to Hell, and Elliot's on the fast track.

But if that's so—if it's so condemnable—why does it feel so good? And why can't he maintain control over his body?

Because he tried. He tries every time.

Something about this clandestine affair—though he hates using that word—is so intriguing that Elliot can't end it. A look, a word, a touch, all subtle, and he loses control.

To a certain point. It's one thing to receive head from another man, but anything else is a different, terrifying story, and so that's where he draws the line. He'd say it's all he needs, but he can have that with Kathy all right: They're Catholics, not prudes. And yet, blowjobs in windowless rooms is what he keeps coming back for.

George moans around the tip of Elliot's cock, does that little flick of the tongue just around the slit that never fails to make Elliot's hips buck up.

It never fails to make his heart hammer against his ribs, either, in part simple physical response, in part due to his guilty conscience. It's the latter that makes him tighten the grip in George's hair to pull him away. George complies easily, like he always follows Elliot's commands, spoken and, mostly, unspoken, without hesitation. It has Elliot thinking it's some sort of shrink-thing, like maybe George wants to assert him that he's in charge. Maybe it's supposed to keep him calm or something stupid like that.

The worst part is that it works. Elliot feels instantly better. Mentally, that is. Physically, the lack of contact leaves him aching, and his hand nudges George back as if on its own volition.

A gasp leaves his mouth when George flicks his tongue over his glans once more, and Elliot closes his eyes.

It's ridiculously easy to make believe: He imagines Kathy's face and feels a mighty pang of guilt about it that almost has him shove George back. But then, George licks a wet stripe down his entire length, tongues at his balls while he starts jacking him, and the wave of pleasure that crashes over Elliot weighs more than any remorse.

He's overly aware of the cold steel pressing against his back, the edge of some metal storage shelf that elicits a faint rattle of cleanser bottles and paint tins when he moves. The sound is almost drowned out in his own moan as George takes him in again, follows his hand with his mouth, down and up and down again. And again.

The image of Kathy fades ever more the closer Elliot gets, and while he hates himself so much for all of this, there's no denying the feeling of power surging through him when he comes in George's mouth, feels—watches—him swallow all but a few drops with ease. Elliot thrusts forward, once, twice, just because he can, just because, _God, forgive me,_ that choked moan he elicits connects straight to the now cooling embers in his loins, rekindles them.

And if he doesn't go to Hell for that alone, he's sure going to to lose his soul in the eternal fire for pulling George up and kissing him, tasting himself on the other man's lips, and loving it.

In that instant, he knows George will wear down his armor over time, and part of him can't wait.

**Author's Note:**

> challenge: r19.01 resistance  
> community: [Froday Flash Fiction Challenge](http://fffc.livejournal.com)
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **Moit** , who also made sure all characters were returned unharmed.
> 
> [Visit my LJ-community [Bunny Bash](https://bunnybash.livejournal.com) to leave me a prompt at any time.]
> 
> [Feedback is love.]


End file.
